


Self-Realization

by Webtrinsic



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Worried Tony, dad tony, post homecoming, son peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: "Sometimes you have to run from the people you love, not for the sake of letting them realize your worth, but for you to realize your self-worth." -Unknown-





	Self-Realization

Tipping his head back, Peter forced himself to breathe. Forced himself to not scream in terror, to not cry. He was stronger than this, the hard part was over. He saved the day, he shouldn't be scared. It didn't make sense, he won. He proved Spider-Man could handle more than just petty crimes, that he could be more than just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

"Master Peter your heart rate is high, and you're suffering from wound's. Would you like me to inform your father?" FRIDAY the AI asked.

"No!" Peter shouted, wincing as he sat up. His metabolism slowly healed the talon wounds. He'd had them cleaned and stitched up, but it still burned. His face he had to clean up himself, the healing factor focused on the bigger wounds first.

"As you wish Mr. Peter," FRIDAY wearily replies, her tone worried. Peter frowned, limping over to the window. Helicopter's circled the city in search of Spider-Man, they heard the vigilante had been injured and had saved the one and only Tony Stark's business from the Vulture.

The news showed people crying, cheering him on. A woman sobbing," He's a hero, we need more people like Spider-Man. I hope he's alright, we all hate to see our cities hero hurt."

Tears fell from Peter's eyes then, they thought he was a hero. Scared he was hurt, they wanted to help him. Wanted to thank him, repay him for what he's done.

He felt loved, maybe just maybe he'd done it. Proved not to anyone else, but to himself he could be better. He only wished his father would see it that way, but to Tony he wasn't Spider-Man, he was Peter.

The two would never be in the same room, never meet, and certainly never be the same. If only he knew, but how could he tell him? Tell him I'm the one that disappointed you, I'm the one you cast into the shadows. I'm the one whose heart you've broken, whose dreams you crushed. 

Peter laughed through a sob, shaking his head until he dropped it with a thud against the glass. A helicopter started coming close, obviously trying to cover Stark Tower for the news. Peter closed the blinds, it wouldn't do any good to show his bloodied face. Luckily they didn't spot him, only the curtain's closing. It was odd seeing it on the screen adjacent, as they rambled and gossiped. 

At a time like this, who wouldn't want to know what's going on at Stark Tower? Peter wanted to know just as much, but he couldn't leave his room. The thought alone made him nauseous. Peter looked down at his bandaged torso, before sauntering over to his closet. 

Peter smirked at the box in the closet, pulling it open he laid his eyes upon the sinfully soft onesie. Spider-Man pajamas. Slipping it on, he crawled into bed pulling the hood up with a smile. 

\---

Peter yawned, pulling himself up from his bed. Zipping down the front, inspecting the stitches. They'd still need around a few more days. Zipping himself back up, Peter inspected his face in the bathroom mirror. A small scratch was above his eyebrow, and his cheek was slightly bruised. Nothing inflamed. He could blame the injuries on something else, like the bullies at school.

His stomach groaned, it'd been too long since he last ate. Padding out of his room, down the long halls he made his way to the kitchen. Peter didn't want to admit once Dad had yelled at him his Spider sense had gone off around him ever since, he also wouldn't admit it made him feel better. It let him know when his dad was approaching, he wouldn't be surprised.

He felt guilty about it too though, he shouldn't see his father as a threat. As a danger to him, it shouldn't make him feel safer. But it does.

Peter opened the fridge, "Hey FRIDAY with everything in the fridge what can I make for breakfast?" Peter tensed, dad had walked into the room.

"You can make eggs, pancakes, french toast, croissants, cinnamon buns, sausage, bacon, belgium waffles," The AI started, "Thank you," Peter cut it off, opting to make some cinnamon buns.

Tony's eyes widened as he saw his sons leg's, the rest of his body hidden by the fridge's door. Spider-Man pajamas. They filled him with dread, especially after yesterday. He made sure to sound nonchalant, "Spider-Man pajamas eh?"

It was unnerving talking to Peter, he'd been so distant. So had he, he'd been so preoccupied with Steve's leaving, and Spider-Man. He'd been neglecting his own son, he should have spent more time with him. He noticed Peter's hand tremble slightly when closing the fridge.

"Yeah, friend bought it for me," Peter shrugged, popping open the tube of cinnamon rolls, laying it out on a sheet. Tony's eyes widened in horror at his son's face, running to his son's side. Peter flinched as his father reached out to him, he looked down in guilt.

"Peter," Tony gasped, slightly stepping back. His son flinched away from his touch. Flinched. As if he'd hurt him.

"Don't worry about it," Peter brushed off, before sliding the cinnamon rolls into the oven.

"Peter your face it's -" Tony felt his heart stop. No. Spider-Man. His son. Peter knew that very moment he'd figured it out, Peter expected him to yell. Not be encompassed into his father's arms, as his father bawled into his hair. It stung having his wound's pressed on, but he wouldn't pull away.

His sense slowly died down, depleting once he wrapped his arms around his father. 

"I'm sorry," Tony repeated over and over, "you're so much better than me already. I'm so sorry, I love you so much baby."

Peter shook his head in his father's shoulder, tears filling his eyes. 

"I'm sorry daddy," Peter apologized, hiding in his father's tuxedo. The oven beeped, causing Peter to pull away, wiping his eyes. Tony shook his head at the apology, but let Peter get the rolls out of the oven. Once he'd done that, Tony pulled Peter back into his arms.

Peter snuggled in comfortably, resting his head against his father's pounding heart. 

"Those are some soft pajamas," Tony stated, wiping his eyes and disconnecting from his son. Trying to save some of his dignity. 

"Yeah," Peter huffed a laugh. Before icing the cinnamon rolls, sliding a plate to Tony.

"Thank you," Tony whispered.

"Welcome," Peter breathed softly.

"For everything, Peter."


End file.
